


Counting Stars

by Scarlet_Gryphon



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, F/M, M/M, Rough Trade Challenge July 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4309317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Gryphon/pseuds/Scarlet_Gryphon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all fun and games for Sentinel Gavin Free as he works at RoosterTeeth. All that changes when he realizes his best friend Michael is awakening as a highly compatible Guide, and he has to figure out how to tell him how he feels before it's game over...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zoning Out

Gavin has been nursing a headache the whole day. He figures he'd just slept weird last night, but that should've just resulted in a crick in his neck rather than a headache, right? Sometimes being an unbonded Sentinel sucks. His body is almost constantly at war with itself and pretty much anything can set off a reaction, be that allergic or otherwise. Sometimes it's the strangest of things, like wet bread. That always sets off his gag reflex and he has no idea why. It just _does_. Which, to be honest, is par for the course with him. Weirdness tends to follow him around no matter what he does.

Gavin rubs at the back of his neck and then shakes himself out, trying to ignore his headache and the soft whine he swears he can hear coming from Ray's computer, even though it's in sleep mode. Most of the team are off having lunch, but Gavin has stayed behind, needing to finish editing a  _Things To Do..._ video before the end of the day. The whine seems to keep getting louder and louder over time, and by the end of the lunch hour, Gavin can barely hear anything else. He grits his teeth, trying to focus on his editing. 

It doesn't work. The sound draws him in hard and fast, and his vision starts zooming in as well, focusing on a flickering pixel on his screen. The two on-the-fritz senses pull him into a zone out, something that hasn't happened in a while. Gavin's breathing slows and he blinks every few seconds, only just often enough to keep his unseeing eyes moist. His hands fall still, resting lightly on his keyboard and mouse. His mind is filled with the white noise coming from the computer and the cyan landscape of the pulsating pixel, the odd combination pushing everything else out of his thoughts.

  
  


Geoff is the first to notice that something's wrong. He's a Sentinel as well, though where Gavin is a beta-ranking Sentinel, Geoff is an alpha, and outranks him in the little pack they've formed at the company and home. When Geoff notices that Gavin doesn't notice the rest of the Achievement Hunters come back, nor their greetings, he places a hand on Gavin's shoulder and gives him a little shake.

“Hey, Gavin, we're back. You eat anything?”

Gavin doesn't respond, making Geoff frown. He turns Gavin's chair towards him in an effort to look at him better. “Aw,  _fucking_ _shitballs._ ” The combination of Geoff's sharp swearing and the fact that he shoves Gavin's headphones off him make the others look over at their  _de facto_ leader.

“Everything okay?” Michael asks, brow furrowing in confusion. “What's going on with Gavin?”

Gavin slumps forward, his forehead coming to rest against Geoff's chest. Geoff gathers him close, hauling him to his feet. “He's zoned,” Geoff grunts as he gets an arm around Gavin's torso. “Michael, help me with him, would you? We need to get him to the quiet room.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Michael gets up from his chair and takes Gavin's other side, sliding his arm under Geoff's. The others look on in worry as Geoff and Michael help Gavin out of the office and into the nearby quiet room. It's a small room, but expertly soundproofed. Michael's pretty sure that it's soundproofed better than the recording booths, and that's saying something. There's a small futon in a corner that they place Gavin on, Geoff arranging him on his side in what Michael recognizes as the recovery position from a CPR class he took ages ago one summer.

Michael watches Geoff fuss with Gavin, shifting his weight from foot to foot in his nervousness. He's never seen Gavin this still and unresponsive; it's unnatural. Eventually, he can't take the silence any more and speaks.

“How do we help him? You said he was zoned. That means he needs a Guide, right?” Michael remembers that much from health classes in middle and high school. The whole Sentinel/Guide thing has always been a sort of mystery to him. It's something like twenty percent of the world's total population that're Sentinels or Guides, and that's not always true in lesser populated areas. Most of the time, Sentinels are either in the government, the military, or other similar law enforcement agencies. Not all of them, though, which is why it's not considered too weird that Geoff and Gavin are working at Roosterteeth than elsewhere. Michael thinks it'd be strange to see Gavin in any sort of role involving actual weapons, so he's glad that his friend has never had to deal with that beyond doing his slo-mo work. 

“Yeah, but he doesn't have a Guide,” Geoff replies, going to a nearby cabinet set into the wall and opening it. “It doesn't help that I have no fucking clue what he's zoning on or how long he's been zoning, so I don't know where to start. His skin's not reacting, so I don't think it's touch, and just about everything he eats is Sentinel-safe, so I doubt it's that either. That leaves three senses, and fuck if I know which one's acting up, and if it's only just one.”

“What about Griffon? Would she...?” Michael asks, but Geoff just shakes his head.

“No. I mean, she might be able to, but she's on the other side of the city. Besides, bonded Guides don't work the same as unbonded ones do with unbonded Sentinels. It's kind of like trying to power a laptop with a nine-volt instead of an actual laptop battery. It's complicated.” Geoff grabs a box from the cabinet and brings it over to the futon, kneeling down and opening it. He takes out a packet of what look like hand-wipes and opens it, carefully dragging one of the unscented and aloe-infused wipes over Gavin's face.

“C'mon, Gavin. Wake the fuck up, asshole,” he mutters. Michael doesn't like seeing Gavin so helpless-looking or Geoff so lost, especially not when he doesn't know how to help either of them. He worries at his bottom lip with his teeth before stepping forward. He's not sure what draws him to kneel beside Geoff, but at the moment, Michael doesn't care.

“Hey, Gav. Time to get up,” he said, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around one of Gavin's thin wrists. His thumb begins to sweep over the back of Gavin's wrist of its own volition; it's something Michael's mom used to do when he was a kid and stuck in bed feeling like crap. Geoff ignores him for the moment, muttering to himself before moving away and pulling out his phone to send Griffon a text. Michael keeps up a soft stream of words, alternately cajoling and cursing at Gavin, trying any and everything he can do to rouse him.

It's five minutes after Michael starts speaking that Gavin twitches. It's nothing like his usual flailing motions, but Michael counts it as a small victory, so he keeps going. “C'mon, Gavin,” he says, taking hold of Gavin's hand in both of his, “don't be an asshole. We've got a lot of things to do. We need to kick the Gents' asses in the _Let's Play_ today. Don't leave me and Ray hanging. We need you, boi.”

Gavin twitches again and then his eyes close as he lets out a soft groan. Geoff looks up from his phone, his eyes widening as Gavin tenses and then hisses.

“Gavin?”

“Geoff?” Gavin croaks, cracking his eyes open just enough to see in the dimly lit room; the lights only go up to maybe half-power at their brightest, and that's it. Right now, the light level's right around early morning on a very foggy day. “Michael? What the hell happened?”

“You zoned,” Geoff tells him as his phone vibrates with Griffon's latest reply. “What senses were messing with you?”

“Hearing and sight.” Gavin straightens out his legs and then carefully turns his head, wincing. “How long was I out?”

“No clue.” Michael shrugs. “We just got back from lunch when we found you.”

“My head's pounding like someone's tap dancin' in it,” Gavin informs them. He blinks and then looks down at his hand. “You're holding my hand, Michael.”

Michael frowns and then lets go. “Yeah. Sorry. Don't know why.”

“It's fine. I think it helped,” Gavin says, and then tries to push himself up. Tries being the key word: he gets about halfway up before he starts to tip back down. Michael catches him and helps him up the rest of the way. Gavin gives him a wobbly smile in thanks and then looks at Geoff.

“We're going to have to report this, aren't we?”

Geoff grimaces. “Aw, man, I did  _not_ want to call the DSG today,” he says, running a hand through his hair. He blows out a sharp stream of air. “Yeah, we probably do. Fuck. Alright, you two stay in here. Michael, make sure he eats something. There's food and juice in that mini-fridge over there. I'm going to go talk to the others and then make some calls. Do  _not_ come out until Gavin's feeling better, got it?”

“Got it,” Michael replies, even as Gavin's gearing up to protest. Michael just shoots him a look as Geoff leaves. Geoff already has his phone out again, thumbs flying over the keyboard as the door shuts behind him.

“Okay,” Michael begins, “let's get you something to eat.” He gets up and heads over to the fridge, rummaging around in it to get something for Gavin. Eventually, he pulls out a glass bottle of apple juice as well as some crackers and pepperoni, figuring some protein, sugar, and carbs are the best solution for the situation at hand. Michael takes a seat next to Gavin and hands him the juice after twisting off the top.

Gavin sips at the juice, occasionally taking a cracker or a piece of pepperoni when Michael hands them to him. “Thanks,” he says after a while when the juice is half-gone and the only signs that there were crackers are the crumbs in the bottom of the plastic sleeve,“for helping.”

“What, you think I wasn't going to help you?” Michael scoffs. “You know me better than that, Gavin. Team Nice Dynamite, remember? We gots to look after each other. You're my boi.”

Gavin smiles lopsidedly. “Yeah, I'm your boi.” He absently plays with the label on the bottle, picking at it with his fingernails. He's feeling a lot better now, partially in thanks to the food and partially because Michael's here. It's always better when Michael's around, now that Gavin thinks about it. Everything just seems...

He searches for the right word, rolling the choices around in his mind. Better. More clear and settled. Yeah, that's about right. His senses don't act up as much when Michael's there. Admittedly, Gavin thinks, his concentration never gets better (sometimes it's worse), but that's more a his-brain-thing than a Sentinel-thing. No matter what his mood, Gavin always feels happier around Michael. It's almost as if...

Gavin blinks, a thought coming to him. No. But-- He frowns. Michael has never said anything about being a Guide, or even being tested, though it's common practice in most countries to be tested at around age ten or so. Then again, Gavin's never asked, but surely he'd have noticed by now? Right? He risks a glance over at Michael, who raises an eyebrow at him. Gavin quickly looks away, his mind churning. Well, bollocks. This is going to take some getting used to. He gets to his feet, juice in hand.

“I'm feeling a lot better now,” he says in an attempt to cover his awkwardness. “Come on, let's go see the others.”

Before he or Michael can leave the room, there's a muffled knock at the door. A dim blue light flashes over an intercom set into the wall next to the door, signaling an incoming message. Gavin heads over to it and pushes the 'TALK' button.

“Hello?”

“Is this Sentinel Gavin Free?”

It's a woman's voice, and a stranger's at that. Gavin doesn't recognize it, and from the look on Michael's face, neither does he. Gavin shrugs and then hits the button again.

“Yeah, it is. How can I help you?”

“I'm Guide Representative Sarah Donovan from the Department of Sentinels and Guides. I'm here about a reported zone out,” the woman says. “May I come in?”

Gavin frowns, fingers tapping against the glass of the bottle. “I guess,” he says after a while. “I'm doing a lot better now, though, so it's all good.”

He opens the door and lets her in. Ms. Donovan is a petite woman with dark red hair that's starting to gray at the temples. Geoff follows her in, and Gavin catches a glimpse of several of the others looking curiously on before they turn back to their tasks. Geoff shuts the door and leans on it, crossing his arms over his chest. Ms. Donovan pays him and Michael no mind, instead focusing on Gavin.

“Sentinel Free--”

“You can just call me Gavin, it's okay,” Gavin says, and then looks sheepish when he realizes he's interrupted her. “Sorry.”

Ms. Donovan just shakes her head. “Don't worry about it. Sent... Gavin.” She corrects herself quickly. “Your records show you've been in the States for a while, but you haven't taken a Guide, not even a temporary one.”

“I haven't needed one,” Gavin says with a shrug. “This is the first time I've zoned in a long time.”

“Be that as it may, you're still required to at least consider taking on a temporary Guide,” she tells him, and then takes a folded piece of paper from the leather satchel she's wearing. “Here. This is a list of our next few Sentinel-Guide meet and greets. It's a great way to meet a Guide, even if it's just a temporary one. I have every faith that you'll be able to find someone who'll fit well with you.”

Gavin takes the paper from her and opens it, looking over the dates. “Uh, thanks,” he says, looking up at her. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Who helped you out of the zone? Or did you come out of it yourself?”

Gavin relaxes. That's an easy one. “Oh, that was Michael,” he says, gesturing behind him. “He helped me. It was brilliant.”

One of Ms. Donovan's eyebrows quirks briefly before she focuses on Michael. “And are you a Guide, Michael?”

Michael shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I mean, not really. I tested as a sensitive when I was younger, but I wasn't high enough on the scale to be a Guide.”

Ms. Donovan hums thoughtfully. “Interesting.” She notes that down in a small notebook, adding a few extra lines before looking up at Gavin. “And how are you feeling now?”

“Top,” Gavin replies with a bright smile. “I even ate some.” He holds up the half-drunk juice. “Serves me right for working through lunch.”

“Given that even moderately active Sentinels like yourself require over four thousand calories a day just to stay in healthy shape, I'd say so,” Ms. Donovan says dryly. Gavin decides he likes her, for what it's worth. Geoff pushes away from the door.

“Is that everything?” he asks, uncrossing his arms. “We can keep an eye on Gavin for the rest of the day, but we do have to get back to work.”

“I think so,” Ms. Donovan answers, tucking her notebook in her satchel. She turns to focus on Geoff. “Sentinel Ramsey, so long as Gavin is monitored, he should be good. I'll add this zone out to his files, but it won't affect anything. The DSG doesn't judge on how often a Sentinel zones, at least, not up until a certain point, and particularly not a civilian one such as Gavin. However, if it _does_ get to be a problem, then there will have to be counter-measures taken. For now, he's good, but if that changes...”

“Understood,” Geoff says, opening the door. “We'll take care of him. After you.”

Ms. Donovan leads the way out, the others following after her. She heads outside while Geoff, Gavin, and Michael return to the recording room, where the others are quietly working on various things as they wait to see what happens. Gavin winces when he hears the whining of Ray's fan and looks at him.

“Ray, check your computer case, would you? There's something whining in there like mad,” he says. Ray frowns.

“I don't hear anything.”

“It's there, trust me.”

Ray shrugs and then checks his computer, swearing softly when he realizes just how dusty the fan is. It's not so bad as to create a sound that anyone with normal hearing would be able to detect, but a Sentinel surely can. He cleans it out with a few short and sharp blasts of pressurized air, only stopping when Gavin relaxes.

“Thanks, Ray,” Gavin says, slumping in his chair. He sips on the rest of his juice, tossing the paper Ms. Donovan gave him aside on his desk. He doubts he's actually going to go to any of the meet-and-greets, not now. Besides, he has a lot of things to think about before he even wants to contemplate doing that. Like the curious case of Michael. Gavin sighs. He needs to talk to Geoff and Griffon, and soon.

  
  


Gavin gets his chance later that day after they get back home. He and Geoff are sitting on the couch, playing Peggle and drinking low-alcohol beers made specifically for Sentinels; Griffon has a regular beer, though, as Guides aren't affected as much by alcohol as Sentinels are. It might take more for Geoff and Gavin to get drunk than with normal beers, but Gavin's fine with that. He's sort of a lightweight anyways. It's Geoff's turn when Gavin finally gets up the courage to say something. He waits until Geoff sends his ball pinging around the screen before speaking.

“I think Michael's my Guide.”

Geoff blinks before pausing the game and looking over at him. “Really?”

Gavin nods slowly. “Yeah,” he says, running his fingers over the label of his beer. “He helped me out of that zone so easily today. I think it only took him five minutes. That's way faster than anyone's ever been able to do it, even Dan.”

“What're you going to say to him?” Griffon asks. Gavin just shrugs.

“Don't know. I mean, he didn't grow up with it like we did. He says he tested as a sensitive when he was a kid, but can sensitives turn into Guides when they grow up?”

“I don't know,” Geoff says with a thoughtful expression, “but I bet you could find out pretty easily. Check the internet and see what it says. Maybe there's something on the DSG's website. I don't know, Gavin. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. It's just...” Gavin sighs. “I dunno. It feels _right_.”

“Well, the only thing you can do is talk to him,” Griffon says. “He stepped in to help you without asking, right? Maybe being around you so much gave him the nudge he needed to become a full-fledged Guide. We'll have to keep an eye on him; late Awakenings can be bitches if you're not expecting them.”

Gavin snorts softly and then glances over at the pile of fur and scales that their spirit animals have made. Most can't see or hear them; usually it's just other Sentinels or Guides, and sometimes particularly talented sensitives, though there have been occasions where spirit animals have appeared to mundanes-- normal people (and Gavin's never liked that term, 'mundane') –in times of great need or when their person was in some way incapacitated. Gavin's is a cheetah, which is oddly fitting for him. Geoff had been very confused when he first saw Sophie, but the more he got to know Gavin in general, the more he came to believe that they were a good match. Geoff has a red wolf named Penny, and Griffon has a scarlet king snake named Roscoe that likes to wind around her neck like a vibrantly colored necklace or curl up on Penny's back in between her shoulders.

“I wonder what Michael's spirit animal will be,” Griffon says, following Gavin's gaze. Geoff laughs.

“Something loud, I bet,” he jokes. “Maybe a crow.”

“Or a blue jay,” Griffon counters.

“Nah, a cat,” Gavin says with a laugh. “A really talkative one. Siamese, maybe?”

They keep shooting ideas back and forth, laughter ringing out in the room. Eventually, though, they calm down and return to their game. Geoff wins, celebrating with a victory kiss he shares with Griffon. Gavin's slightly envious of their easy relationship both as Sentinel and Guide and husband and wife, and hopes one day he'll have as good a partnership as they do. He can dream, right?


	2. Michael's Awakening

Michael's dreams are very weird that night. He dreams of a jungle, the atmosphere thick and green around him. He emerges from the jungle into a clearing. There's what look like the ruins of a temple in the near distance, and there, in the middle of the clearing, a vine-covered stone platform. Intrigued, Michael climbs up onto the crumbling stone, watching his footing more than the skies above him. He hears a noise that makes him turn, and then something large and white is streaking towards him. Before he can do anything, he's hit, and there's the sound of a deep-throated cry ringing out through the air.

He doesn't remember the dream when he wakes up the next morning.

Michael gets to the office on time, energy drink in hand. He keeps thinking he sees flashes of white out of the corner of his eye, but every time he goes to look, it's gone. Michael just puts it down to the fact that he hasn't quite woken up entirely yet. He stops dead when he gets to the AH office, his eyes widening.

What.

The.

_Fuck_ .

There's a cheetah lounging in one of the few free corners of the room with a wolf curled up next to it. Michael blinks, scrubbing a hand over his face before looking at the corner again. Nothing's changed. The animals are still there. Right. Obviously he's more sleep deprived than he first assumed. No one else seems to notice the two wild animals that should  _not_ be there, so Michael pretends that he can't see them either. He sits down at his desk, trying to ignore the prickling feeling on the back of his neck.

The rest of the team file in, joking and poking fun at one another as usual. Michael successfully manages to ignore the cheetah and wolf until lunch, and by then, he's almost forgotten that they're there. They all go out for lunch that day, Geoff dragging Gavin along to Chipotle so they don't have a repeat of yesterday. The six of them push two tables together outside, enjoying the sunshine as they eat. Michael notices that the wolf and the cheetah tag along as well, chilling out underneath an empty table nearby. He manages to ignore them until a fucking trumpeter swan of all things waddles over, looking up at him with beady black eyes.

“Stop ignoring me, asshat.”

Michael startles, earning a curious look from Ray. The swan just talked to him. Apparently it's a guy, judging by the deep voice tinged with a Jersey accent. Michael fights back a strangled laugh. Today is  _not_ his day.

“My name's Louie, by the way. Apparently you loved _The Trumpet of the Swan_ a lot when you were a kid. It's not a bad name, though. I actually like it.” Louie idly runs his beak through the feathers on his left wing, his long neck bending in a graceful arc. Michael looks down at his food, half-wondering if there's something in it. He misses the significant look that passes between Geoff and Gavin since he's too invested in questioning his apparently dwindling sanity.

“Hey, Michael, can I talk to you for a second?” Geoff asks, getting to his feet. Michael snaps his head up, curls bouncing a little.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.” He stands, moving away from the table. Gavin gets up as well, following Geoff and Michael to a spot that's far enough away from the table that the others can't hear them. Louie waddles over to the cheetah and the wolf, talking in low tones with them. They answer him; Michael's hardly surprised by now that they can talk too.

“What the fuck's going on?” Michael asks bluntly, jerking his head at the assorted animals. “I've been seeing them all day. Okay, well, the swan's new, but _still_.”

“That's your spirit animal,” Geoff replies. “Did it tell you its name?”

“His name is Louie,” Michael says distractedly. “Wait, spirit animal? I'm not a Sentinel.”

Gavin shifts awkwardly on his feet. “No, you're a Guide. I... I think I'm your Sentinel. That's why your spirit animal appeared. You'll probably go through your full Awakening soon.”

“Awakening?”

Geoff gestures absently with a hand. “It's like the full reveal of your powers. We're going to have to get you to the nearest Sentinel/Guide Center before anything else happens,” he says. Michael stares at him.

“What's going to happen?” Michael can't keep the worried tone out of his voice, no matter how much he tries.

“You get to become a full-fledged Guide,” Geoff tells him. “The Center will help train you. They're run by the DSG and have some of the best resources around.” He reaches out and puts a hand on Michael's shoulder. “Don't worry. We'll be here every step of the way. The sooner you get your training, the sooner everything goes back to normal.” He pauses. “Well, as normal as can be, anyways.”

“What if I don't want to be a Guide?” Michael blurts. “I was fine with just being a sensitive!”

“But _Michael_ ,” Gavin begins, “you can't ignore being a Guide!”

“Why not?”

“Because you could go absolutely mental if you do!” Gavin says, his voice rising a little towards the end. “Untrained Guides can go mad just from all the unfiltered emotions coming in at them. It's not something you can just switch off.”

“So, I don't have any choice? Bullshit,” Michael snaps. He focuses on Geoff, doing his best to ignore the headache that's quickly turning into a migraine the longer he stands here. “There's got to be some way to stop it.”

Geoff just shakes his head. “There isn't,” he says. “Look, the Center will help. Trust me on this. You could talk to Griffon if you want, but something tells me we don't have that much time.”

Michael's brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Because you're pale as shit and look like you're about to pass out,” Geoff tells him with a concerned expression. Michael winces at a sudden burst of laughter coming from a group that passes by on the sidewalk, his migraine spiking at the sudden influx of emotions. He sinks down on the nearest empty seat, running a hand over his face. Gavin rests a hand on his shoulder, which Michael absently notes seems to help some.

“Fine.” Michael sighs. “Just... fine. When do you want to go?”

“ASAP,” Geoff says. “I'm going to go talk to Jack. We'll call Burnie on the way and let him know what's going on. The training's probably going to take at least a week, if not more. We've got plenty of your videos backlogged, so don't worry about that. Just focus on what you need to learn. We'll figure something out for AHWU and the podcast.”

Michael nods as Gavin perches on the edge of the chair seat. He can't exactly say that he minds; the idea of having personal space around Gavin (or really, most of the AH team) isn't really a viable one. Once Geoff comes back after talking with Jack, he, Michael, and Gavin pile into Geoff's car and head to the nearest branch of the SGC. Michael and Gavin are in the backseat, with Michael leaning against Gavin, who seems quite happy with the arrangement.

The ride, thankfully, is a short one, and soon enough they're walking into the well-decorated building. It's set back from the street slightly; there's a thick brick wall ten feet high surrounding the building that hides the lower floors from view, as well as the neatly manicured front lawn. It's kind of weird seeing grass this deep in the city, but Michael's not about to complain. The lobby is large and airy, but surprisingly not too echo-filled. There's a small amount of people, and Michael notices the veritable zoo of spirit animals intermixing freely with the humans. Hell, there's even a buffalo that treads surprisingly quietly behind its Sentinel. Michael wonders for a second where the hell Louie and the others have gotten off to before he spots them wandering in out of thin air, because sure, why not add teleportation and/or realm walking to the ever-growing list of weird shit he's seen today?

Geoff talks with the receptionist while Gavin keeps track of Michael, quietly talking in a reassuring manner. There's something calming about the building in general, but Michael can't place it. He's more worried about his headache to bother about trying to figure out architecture, so he doesn't pay it much mind. It's only when the receptionist calls him over to sign his admittance paperwork that Michael focuses on the outside world again instead of his own pain. As soon as everything's correctly signed and dated, Michael's whisked off into an examination room, leaving Gavin and Geoff behind. He just hopes that this won't be the last time he sees them.

  
  


Michael's out of the office for almost a month before he's deemed ready to rejoin the world outside the Center's walls. Griffon has been the only one of the crew who's been allowed to come see him while he's been in here, but that's because she's a Guide as well, and a bonded one at that. She's kept Michael updated on what's been going on at the office. Apparently, the fans are starting to get a little cranky about the fact that he's gone, even with the official statements from Burnie and Geoff that're posted on the website and Youtube. Michael can't wait to get back. He's ready to slide back into his daily routine and put this whole thing behind him.

Gavin and the Ramseys come to pick Michael up on the Sunday that he's released from the Center. Michael's glad to see them, but Gavin especially. Michael can tell the exact moment Gavin sees him, even without the broad grin the Sentinel's sporting, because he can feel a sudden burst of slightly manic energy mixed with the lemon-bright happiness that's pure Gavin. It's like a straight dose of fucking liquid summer sunshine. Michael soaks it in as much as he can before Gavin wraps him up in a tight hug that he quickly returns. Neither of them notice the slightly jealous looks some of the unattached Guides nearby shoot them, nor the rather loaded one Griffon and Geoff share.

“How've you been?” Gavin asks as they pull away from one another. “It's been really boring without you.”

Michael just smirks. “Of course it has,” he retorts. “I'm the fucking life of the party. Let's get out of here. I've been stuck here for way too long.”

Gavin slings an arm loosely around Michael's shoulders, his smile still bright and easy as they join the others and start heading out. “Top! Have you eaten dinner yet?”

Michael shakes his head. “No. Why, you buying?”

“No, I am,” Geoff says. “We're going to celebrate you getting all trained up.”

The restaurant they go to is nice and pleasantly casual. The atmosphere is good and the food even better. Michael gets a burger to celebrate, since the Center's food, while nutritious, is sadly lacking in a lot of flavor or variety. The dinner goes well, and soon enough they're dropping Michael off at his apartment. Gavin waves goodbye, and Michael can't help the fond eye-roll that comes when he sees that Gavin's still waving until the car turns the corner and is out of sight.

“What an idiot,” Michael mutters, heading into his building. He's glad to be back home, and can't wait to go back into work tomorrow. It's going to be _awesome_.

  
  


He's wrong. It isn't awesome. It's hell, or close to it. Michael's mental shields aren't too bad, but he's still working on bolstering them and keeping them at a comfortable level. It would be okay if everyone didn't insist on coming up to him and shaking his hand or otherwise touching him. Michael knows they mean well, but _still_. Every touch feels like a woodpecker's chipping away at his shields one rat-a-tat-tat peck at a time. Michael eventually takes refuge in the AH office after lunch, which helps a lot. Not as many people come in there, and the familiar presences of the rest of the guys help even more.

Gavin's off doing something with Ray, so Michael's dragged into doing a  _ Five Things... _ with Geoff, who says the fans are going to go nuts once they see it, but that's nothing new. Michael's already been over inundated with tweets and messages on other social media from when he posted about his return to the offices that morning, and he's had to mute the alerts on his phone. It'll probably die down by the end of the day, but for now, he's staying away from Twitter and Facebook.

The  _ Five Things...  _ goes pretty quickly, and Michael's pretty happy about it. Geoff seems pleased as well; Michael can tell just by the small burst of warm contentment coming from him. Michael gets to work planning out his next  _ Rage Quit _ , and by the time Gavin and Ray come back into the office, he's play-testing a few of the levels in his chosen game to see if it's worth actually doing. It's alright, but not really good so far. Michael turns to look at Gavin when he comes in, earning a smile.

“Hey, Gavin, Ray,” Michael says. Ray gives him a nod as he passes by. Gavin plops down in his seat and turns to look at Michael.

“You doing okay?” he asks in a quiet voice. Michael shrugs.

“Yeah. It was pretty shitty earlier, but it hasn't been too bad since I've been in here.”

Gavin nods and absently reaches out to take hold of Michael's wrist, fingers curling loosely around it. Michael tenses momentarily before he realizes that Gavin's touch isn't hurting him. It's actually pretty soothing, and a lot of the tension that Michael has barely realized he's been holding flows away. Michael blinks in surprise.

“Huh. Thanks.”

Gavin merely smiles as he moves his hand away. “No problem. Griffon always says that a friendly touch tends to help her when her shields are acting up.”

“It did help,” Michael tells him gratefully. He sighs. “So, what now?”

“Now we get working on the next GTA _Let's Play_ ,” Geoff tells the room in general. There's a small cheer from the others and then they get to work, tossing easy banter back and forth. Michael smiles to himself. Yeah, it's good to be back, even with all the bumps he still needs to work out. He'll figure it out soon enough, he's sure of it.


	3. Choices

The Matching packet arrives for Michael a few weeks after his return to work. It's delivered by an official courier and everything, and Gavin hates everything that the dark purple document envelope means. The embossed seal of the DSG looks up mockingly at him from the front. It's a nice enough seal-- two crossed swords behind a shield with the letters 'DSG' in the center of the shield –but Gavin can't stand what it represents, nor the papers that he knows are inside the envelope. That kind of envelope is only delivered to a Sentinel or Guide when the DSG has compiled a list of potentially compatible partners for that person that are in their age range. Gavin is about ninety percent certain he's not on that list, or if he is, it's towards the bottom. Either way, it fucking _sucks_.

Gavin's in a bad mood the whole day, but he does his best to hide it from the others, forcing a smile and his usual bright demeanor. He can tell Geoff isn't fooled, and Michael keeps shooting him weird looks, but Gavin ignores them the best he can. It's mostly an editing day, which Gavin's thankful for. It makes it easier to tune the others out if he's able to just focus on his work. Once the day is over and he and Geoff are back home, Gavin quietly gets drunk, curling up in a corner of the couch with his knees against his chest. He's on his third bottle of full-strength beer when Geoff confronts him.

“What the hell's going on with you, Gavin? You've been pissy as dicks all day,” Geoff asks, yanking the half-full bottle away from him. Gavin makes a garbled protesting noise that Geoff ignores. Griffon comes back from putting the remnants of dinner away and takes up a perch on one of the arms of the couch.

“ 'S nothin',” Gavin says with a pout. “Gimme back my beer.”

“No,” Geoff replies firmly. “Talk to us, Gavin. What's going on?”

Gavin sighs, letting his head loll against the back of the couch. “The bloody DSG,” he says after a moment, because he can't leave a silence alone, especially not when Geoff and Griffon are looking at him with their patented tell-all stares that he can never resist.

“What about the DSG?” Griffon prompts.

“They sent Michael his first Matching packet today,” Gavin tells them, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. “He didn't open it at work, but I doubt I'm on the list.”

“Have you talked to him yet about being his Sentinel?” Geoff asks. “Beyond that first time before his Awakening, I mean.”

Gavin shrugs loosely. “Not really,” he replied, eying the bottle in Geoff's hand. “It hasn't exactly come up.”

Geoff rolls his eyes. “God, you are dumb as shit,” he says exasperatedly. “If you don't talk to him, you won't stand a chance. Talk to him before he goes on any of the meets.”

“Or we could just have him come over,” Griffon suggests. “Then again, you're pretty drunk, so that's probably not the best idea right now. Maybe tomorrow. Have him come over for dinner.”

Gavin hums, absently tapping his fingers against the armrest. “Yeah, I guess that could work,” he says finally. He sighs. “I just don't want to make a mess of it, y'know?”

Griffon pats him on the shoulder. “It'll be fine,” she tells him reassuringly. “Just remember that it's always going to be Michael's choice. You're _his_ first and foremost. Let him make the first serious move.”

Gavin nods. “Yeah,” he says, “that's a good idea. Can I finish my beer now?”

Geoff snorts softly. “Nope. You're drunk enough as it is. Just be glad tomorrow's Saturday and you don't have to work.”

Gavin makes a soft noise of agreement and then closes his eyes. “I'm just gonna sleep here.”

“No way. You need to get some water and ibuprofen in you before you sleep,” Griffon tells him firmly. “Come on, up you get.”

She and Geoff help Gavin to his feet and drag him to the kitchen, where they watch as he takes the painkiller and drains two large glasses of water before they help him to the bathroom and then bed. Griffon leaves another glass of water next to Gavin's bed before bidding him good night.

Gavin wakes the next morning with not as bad of a headache as he thought he would, thanks to the medicine and water, but he's still got a hangover nonetheless. He sips at the water that was left next to his bed as he leaves his room, dragging the fingers of his free hand through his hair. It doesn't help to tame it much, but Gavin feels better about it regardless. The others are already up, and Gavin gives them a small wave as he goes to get something to eat.

“We're going to have a barbecue around three,” Geoff tells him. “I've already texted the others, so don't worry about it. Just get dressed and ready to help. And Gavin? Don't forget to talk to Michael.”

Gavin sighs. “I know, I know,” he says as he sits down with a bowl of cereal. “Let me eat, would you?”

  
  


Later that day, Gavin helps Geoff with getting things ready for the barbecue. He's mostly relegated to hauling things from the kitchen out to the backyard, but that's okay. The others start to arrive right around three, just like Geoff has told them to, and soon the backyard is filled with friendly chatter and the smell of grilling meat. Gavin takes a seat with one of the Sentinel-safe beers and a plate of chips and salsa once he's done helping Geoff, settling in to do a little people-watching. Michael slides into a chair next to him after a while, drink and food in hand.

“Hey,” he says, glancing over at Gavin. “You doing okay? You seemed kinda off yesterday.”

Gavin shrugs. “Bad day,” he replies. “It's better now.” He taps his fingers against his beer bottle and then looks over at Michael. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course you can. You can talk to me about pretty much anything, you know that,” Michael tells him. “What's on your mind?”

“Did you open the packet the DSG sent you?” Gavin all but blurts out, sincerely hoping that the answer will be no. To his great discontent, Michael nods.

“Yeah, I did,” he says. “It was weird. What was with all the names?”

“They're Sentinels the DSG thinks you'd be compatible with,” Gavin tells him, picking at the label of his beer. “They should be all around your age. I doubt I was on the list.”

Michael shakes his head. “No, you weren't,” he says. “Why, were you expecting to be?”

“It was a futile hope, I guess,” Gavin muses quietly. “Figures.”

“Did you want to be?”

“Well, yeah,” Gavin says. “I mean, you were top at helping me when I zoned, Michael, and I've never had any Guide pull me out of a zone that fast, not even Dan. I dunno. It just sucks that they didn't even put me on the list.”

“Maybe I could ask them why you're not there,” Michael offers. “You're in the registry, right?”

Gavin nods. “It's an international registry, but they usually stick with local candidates unless you can't find a match after a while.”

Michael makes a soft noise as he sips at his drink. “I'll see what the DSG says,” he promises. “I'm going in tomorrow to talk with the placement counselor.”

Gavin gives him a small smile. “Thanks.”

Michael smiles back at him. “No problem, Gav.”

  
  


The rest of the weekend passes well enough, but Gavin can't help but to wonder how Michael's meeting with the placement counselor went. He supposes he'll find out soon enough, assuming Michael's comfortable in telling him. Gavin does his best to wait patiently, but as more time goes on, he starts to get a little antsy. He mentions this to Dan the next time they Skype, which makes Dan smile wryly.

“So, you want him to take you on as his Sentinel instead of any of the ones the DSG said would be good, right?” Dan asks, just to clarify.

Gavin nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Well,” Dan says, “why not convince him?”

“How?”

“Court him if you have to, B. Make him think that you're the best of the best out there,” Dan tells him. “Do what you have to, but don't go too overboard. You don't want to scare him away.”

“You think that'll work?” Gavin asks, worried.

“It'd be better than just sitting around and waiting for him to actually make a move,” Dan says firmly. “Trust me on this, Gavin. Don't wait around for a miracle. Make one up if you have to. And don't dance around the subject, either. Make sure you're clear about your intentions.”

Gavin leans back in his chair, thinking. “I'll try it,” he says finally. “It couldn't hurt, right?”

“Right. I know you can do this.” Dan smiles at him encouragingly. “Good luck, B. And make sure to tell me how it goes, okay?”

Gavin nods and then signs off after saying his goodbyes, his mind whirring along. Right. He can totally do this. He just needs to make a plan and stick to it.

  
  


Gavin's first thought is to do something in Minecraft for Michael, but the more he thinks about it, the more that seems like a bad idea. Far too many things could go wrong, the least of which being Michael not finding out at all or finding out too early. No, Gavin decides that, while fun, Minecraft is out of the equation. He thinks on it some more, and eventually comes to the decision to just start out simple. Dinner and a movie or something like that are classics for a reason, right? Right.

Gavin goes into work the next day feeling both nervous and excited. It's an odd combination to say the least, but he knows he can do this. It's just food and bevs and maybe a movie after all. He waits until they're packing up for the day to ask Michael, figuring that would be the best time.

“Hey, Michael, want to go grab some bevs and food with me? My treat,” Gavin says, nudging Michael in the shoulder. Michael smiles but shakes his head.

“Not tonight, Gavin, sorry. I've already got plans.”

Gavin deflates a little. “Oh. Okay. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Michael agrees, which makes Gavin feel a little better. He watches Michael go before meeting up with Geoff to go home. Well, at least it wasn't a total bust. With that in mind, Gavin comes in the next day, only to find Michael completely absent from the office. Frowning, he goes to track down Ray, figuring he'd probably know where Michael was.

“Hey, have you seen Michael?” Gavin asks once he locates Ray in the break room.

“He's at home. Food poisoning,” Ray explains with a sigh. “He ate something bad last night, but he says the doctor says he should be fine tomorrow or the next day.”

Gavin makes a soft noise of distress. “Oh no. That's horrible.”

“Yeah,” Ray agrees, “it sucks balls. Food poisoning's the worst, but it usually only lasts a short time.”

Gavin nods and then wanders back to the AH office, feeling bummed out. Alright, so his plans are delayed a little longer. He can work with that. It's just going to take time. With that thought in mind, Gavin steels himself and returns to work, starting in on finishing up the editing of their latest _Let's Play_. It keeps his attention for most of the day, though he does send off a text to Michael to check in on him around lunch time. There's no reply, but Gavin figures Michael's either sleeping or being sick in the toilet, so he tries not to read too much into it.

Michael returns two days later, looking slightly pale but otherwise none too worse for the wear. The others tease him a little, naturally, but Michael just teases them right back. Gavin gets up the courage to ask Michael out again a few days after that, figuring it would be a good idea to let him recover from his food poisoning before taking him out to eat again. This time, Michael agrees readily, which makes Gavin grin.

The restaurant Gavin chooses is pleasantly low-key without being too casual, which makes it a favorite of a lot of the Roosterteeth crew. The drive over is nice, and they find a parking spot without too much trouble. Gavin's grateful that there's not that bad of a wait, and soon enough they're being taken to their table. As they go through the restaurant, someone calls out to them from a nearby table.

“Gavin! Michael! Hey, wait up a minute.”

It's Barb and several others, including Kerry and Joel. Gavin and Michael pause to talk to them, while the hostess waits patiently.

“What're you two doing here?” Joel asks. Gavin shrugs.

“Dinner,” he replies. “Same as you, I guess.”

“Cool,” Kerry says approvingly. “Hey, want to join us? There's room for two more. We've only just ordered our drinks.”

“I don't know,” Michael says hesitantly, glancing at Gavin.

“Aw, come on.” Barb gives them a winning smile. “There's more than enough room, and we barely get to see you guys as it is during work. Please?”

Gavin sighs softly, knowing there's little choice. Oh, sure, they could go find their own table, but Barb does have a point, and judging from Michael's reaction, he seems willing to change their plans up. “Alright,” Gavin says, returning her smile with a small one of his own. “We'll join you.”

Barb cheers softly as the two of them sit down, Gavin apologizing quietly to the hostess for the hold up. They get comfortable, though Gavin's rather disappointed by the fact that the only open chairs are on opposite sides of the table from one another, so Michael's sandwiched between Kerry and Joel while Gavin's between Barb and the open end of the table.

Gavin does his best to keep the conversation flowing between him and Michael during the meal, but Michael soon gets sidetracked into a conversation with Kerry, which leaves Gavin out of the loop entirely. He sighs softly and turns his attention to his food, falling into his thoughts as he eats. It's only when the meal's over and everything's been paid for that Gavin's able to actually talk with Michael, but even then, the conversation's kept light. Gavin itches to talk to Michael about the whole Sentinel-Guide thing, but he can't seem to find the right time to bring it up.

By the time he thinks of something, Michael's pulling up in front of Geoff's house and dropping him off. Gavin waves goodbye and then sticks his hands in his pockets, watching Michael drive off.

“Bollocks,” he mutters, kicking at the sidewalk. He blows out a sharp stream of air and then looks up at the sky. A few stars are peeking out from around the glow of the nearby city, but not enough for him to pick out any constellations in particular. Gavin shakes his head and then goes inside, making his way to his room with barely a pause in his stride.

The next few attempts go about as well as the first. Either it's the fact that Michael already has plans or something comes up to derail the ones the two of them make. Gavin's breaking point comes several weeks after his initial resolution to woo Michael to his side. He and Michael are making plans to go to a favorite bar of theirs after work where there's supposed to be live music playing when Ryan breaks into the conversation.

“I heard that that band's supposed to be good,” he says as he's packing up. “Mind if I tag along?”

Gavin twitches and makes a faint noise of frustration. “Actually, I--”

“Wait, is that at Dominic's?” Ray asks. “Man, I haven't been there in forever. Hey, if we all go, do you think they'd give us a group discount?”

Jack laughs. “When has that ever worked? Do you really think that--”

“No!”

Everyone stops and looks at Gavin, who flushes but then forges on anyways. “No,” he repeats, though less sharply than before. “You guys can go on your own, but it's just me and Michael in our group tonight.”

“What, like on a date?” Jack asks, eyebrows rising. Gavin's blush darkens slightly at the words.

“So what if it is?” he retorts, sounding braver than he actually feels. “That's allowed, isn't it?”

“Wait, you two are dating?” Ray looks surprised. “Man, I miss everything around here.”

“We're not dating,” Michael says, brow furrowing as he looks at Gavin. “Are we?”

“Well, if you don't know, then obviously not,” Ryan replies. Gavin makes a sharply frustrated noise.

“Fine. Go in one big party. I don't care,” he snaps, and then leaves the office, only just barely avoiding slamming the door. Geoff, who's remained silent throughout all of this, leans against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Congratulations,” he drawls into the stunned silence, “all of you are officially as dumb as dicks. Michael, go find him. The rest of you, let me tell you something about Sentinels and Guides that you obviously missed in school.”

He waits until Michael leaves and shuts the door behind him before resuming talking. “Okay, listen up. First of all, this doesn't go beyond this room. Second, I'm only going to say this once, so pay attention. As far as we can tell, Michael is Gavin's true Guide. Long story short, that means that they're the best fit for one another, compatibility wise, just like me and Griffon are. Only problem is, Gavin's Gavin and doesn't have the balls to actually talk to Michael properly, so he's been pussyfooting around with the whole thing, which means that Michael's got no idea what's really going on. From what Gavin's said, things keep piling up or happening that've stopped them from talking. I'm betting that this was the straw that broke the camel's back.” Geoff takes in a breath and lets it out slowly. “You guys know how Gavin is. Teasing him about this isn't going to be a good idea, not this time. For now, we're going to let them work this out. Don't bring it up unless they do, got it?”

There's a general consensus of agreement, and then everyone turns their focus back to packing up, though occasionally one or more of them will glance at the door, wondering what's going on with Michael and Gavin.

  
  


Michael catches up with Gavin after having to ask several people if they've seen him, eventually finding him tucked away in the quiet room, which probably is the first place he should've looked. Michael quietly closes the door behind him, locking it so they can't be bothered. Gavin's curled up in a tight ball on the futon, his long-legged spirit animal draped over him. Her name's Sophie, if Michael remembers correctly. She gives him an unreadable look and then nudges Gavin before vanishing into thin air.

Gavin makes a soft noise of complaint at her loss, uncurling only slightly to see where she's gone. “Sophie?”

“Hey, Gavin? Can we talk?”

Gavin startles, which surprises Michael, and then curls back up, his back to the room in general. “I don't want to,” comes the muffled reply. “Just leave me alone, Michael.”

“No. We need to talk, Gavin. This is important.” Michael takes a seat next to Gavin's feet before poking him in the side of his leg. “Stop acting like a fucking baby and sit up.”

Gavin jerks away from him, but Michael refuses to go anywhere. Eventually, Gavin uncurls and sits up, not looking him in the eye. Michael sighs and then nudges Gavin with his shoulder.

“You want to explain what that was about in there?”

Gavin remains silent for a few long seconds before speaking, not once looking at Michael.

“It's just... I'm your Sentinel, Michael. I know I am. And I've been trying to be good and not complain or anything, but then that stupid packet came from the DSG and I couldn't help it. I wanted to show you that I was the best out of anyone on that list, but no matter what I did, it didn't seem to work. And all this time...” He shakes his head. “We haven't had one proper dinner or anything. It's like the universe keeps trying to stop anything from happening, and it's _working_.”

Gavin's shoulders sag in defeat as he stares at the carpet, which is far from interesting, but he can't look at Michael right now. He's not sure he wants to see the expression on Michael's face. “And I don't even know if you like blokes, which I probably should, so it might not be worth it at all, and--”

He stops rambling only when Michael reaches up and puts a hand over his mouth. Gavin blinks and then turns to look at him. “Michael?” The word is muffled by Michael's hand, but Gavin doesn't care. He's more focused on Michael's expression, which, to his amazement, is one of fond exasperation rather than anger or disgust.

“You,” Michael says, lips curled into a smile, “are a fucking idiot. Why didn't you say anything? And Gavin, for the record, I'm bi. Anyways, I'm not going to yell at you or anything like that. I'm going to move my hand away now, okay?”

Gavin nods, too stunned to do anything else. Michael does as promised and moves his hand, letting it drop to his lap to join the other. “So,” he continues on, “you're my Sentinel. We've talked about this before.”

“Yeah, but I didn't want to push it after that. I mean, the DSG sent the Matching packet, and I wasn't on the list,” Gavin says weakly. Michael snorts.

“I only ever went to one meeting with anyone from that list,” he says. “I got food poisoning because of it. That pretty much turned me off from ever wanting to do it again.”

Gavin grimaces. “Yeah, it'd do the same for me.”

“Anyways,” Michael says, “screw what the DSG says. I've got to admit, none of the Sentinels I met there ever clicked with me like you have. And why would I go with someone who I don't know? You're one of my best friends, Gavin, and I'd rather have you than someone else. Besides, I'm not exactly cop or military material. I like my job.”

“I don't want you to be with me just because we're friends or because of the job,” Gavin tells him earnestly. “I want you to be with me because _you_ want to. It's always been your choice.”

Michael arches an eyebrow. “Even though technically you've already tried to influence me?”

“I obviously wasn't doing a good job, now was I?” Gavin points out with a lopsided smile. “You didn't realize anything was going on until bloody Jack and Ray said something.”

“I guess both of us are idiots, then,” Michael says wryly. He doesn't hesitate before reaching out and taking Gavin's hands in his, squeezing them lightly before letting go. “Let's forget about the live music tonight. Let's just go to dinner, you and me. Somewhere where we know we're not going to be bothered. Let's start this whole thing over, but this time, we both know what we're going into. I'm not going to say yes right away, but I'm not saying no, either. Sound good?”

Gavin can't believe he's being offered this. Does it sound good? Hell yes it does. He grins, all his worries washing away as he pulls Michael into a hug. Michael laughs and then returns it, thumping him on the back with his open hand.

“Come on,” Michael says once they part, “let's get back before Geoff sends out a search team for us.”

Gavin gets to his feet, offering a hand to help Michael up. Michael takes it and pulls himself up. They share a look and then leave the room, returning to the office hand-in-hand. The others don't mention their return, nor the hand-holding, though Geoff smirks to himself. Damn. Griffon will be happy she won that bet. Oh, well. There are still the others they've made to collect on. Those should be fun...

 

Over in the corner, a trumpeter swan settles in next to a cheetah and a red wolf, looking right at home. Life is good.


End file.
